


Woo!

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21557050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis is encouraging.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 12
Kudos: 90





	Woo!

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He’s going to completely bomb his practical exam, and he knows it. The only reason he survived university is because he majored in photography, and all his tests required more artistic talent than intelligence or physical prowess. Prompto does like to consider himself fairly artistic. He’d also like to _think_ he’s gotten stronger, but there’s no way he’s strong _enough_ to join the Crownsguard. He’ll be compared to guys like Gladiolus and Cor the Immortal—people that could crush his skull with one hand. He’ll be up against other recruits like Ignis, a man who could kill another man with a single look. He’s doomed. 

He’s ridiculously nervous and tense and just generally whiny, and he probably wouldn’t make it through the night if not for Noctis’ support. He’s _so_ grateful to be at Noctis’ apartment. He doesn’t know how Noctis puts up with him when he’s like this. Noctis won’t fudge the results for him, won’t get him hired if he doesn’t earn it properly, but just knowing Noctis will like him either way is enough. At least, he hopes Noctis will like him either way. If Noctis dumps him for flunking out, he’ll straight up die. 

“Ready?” Noctis calls from the other room, and Prompto startles, because he didn’t know there was anything to be ready for. Noctis left awhile ago, but then Prompto slipped into his funk and stopped counting the minutes. 

He answers, “Uh, sure?”

Noctis emerges from around the corner, circling into the living room, then strikes a dramatic pose. He thrusts his pink-white pompoms into the air and lifts one leg, which _almost_ lifts his skirt enough to see under it.

He’s wearing a skirt. A tiny, pink, pleated skirt. His shirt is a sleeveless white tank-top, embroidered with some random letters that have no meaning to Prompto. Noctis’ legs are covered in thigh-high socks, his shoes match the outfit, and he even has a pink headband tucked between his black locks. He looks like a weirdly skimpy cheerleader straight out of a thrift store or a cheap Halloween bag. Either way, Prompto’s stunned, and he can’t decide whether he wants to laugh or drool. 

Noctis lowers his leg, letting the skirt fall flat across his slightly tented crotch, and winks at Prompto. “You’re gonna do great tomorrow, buddy.” He dons a knowing smirk that somehow bolsters Prompto’s confidence. “If you get anxious, just picture me cheering you on.”

Prompto counters, “You want me to get a boner at the Citadel?”

Noctis snorts. Prompto’s decided drool was the right option. Noctis does look ridiculous, but he’s also showing off that thin sliver of flesh along the tips of his thighs that always makes Prompto’s cheeks flush. Noctis takes pity on him and wanders closer—Prompto’s hands shoot out, and he’s grabbing Noctis’ hips as soon as he can. 

He pulls Noctis into his lap, and Noctis spreads his legs wide around Prompto’s middle, flattening up against Prompto’s chest. He drops the pompoms to the couch so he can thread his fingers through Prompto’s hair and tilt Prompto’s face up to meet him. 

He bends down to give Prompto a long, lingering kiss that makes Prompto squirm. He clutches Noctis’ waist and kisses Noctis fiercely back, all worries forgotten, because it’s hard to think about anything else when he has a gorgeous prince in his lap. When Noctis pulls back, he insists, “You’re going to do great, Prom.”

Prompto breathes, “I love you so much.” He really, really does. He promises, “I’m gonna protect your beautiful, crazy ass no matter what.”

Noctis snorts again and laughs, “Thanks.” He gives Prompto another kiss, chaster this time, quicker, because then he’s pressing their foreheads together and purring, “Want a private cheer?”

Prompto wants anything and everything from Noctis. He sighs a happy, “Yes, sir!”


End file.
